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uch； abstract thoughts are raised up between mens minds and nature； who never does the same thing twice； or makes one man like another； till minds； whose patriotism is perhaps great enough to carry them to the scaffold； cry down natural impulse with the morbid persistence of minds unsettled by some fixed idea。 they are preoccupied with the nations future； with heroes； poets； soldiers； painters； armies； fleets； but only as these things are understood by a child in a national school； while a secret feeling that what is so unreal needs continual defence makes them bitter and restless。 they are like some state which has only paper money； and seeks by punishments to make it buy whatever gold can buy。 they no longer love； for only life is loved； and at last； a generation is like an hysterical woman who will make unmeasured accusations and believe impossible things； because of some logical deduction from a solitary thought which has turned a portion of her mind to stone。
Synge And The Ireland Of His TimeIII
even if what one defends be true； an attitude of defence； a continual apology； whatever the cause； makes the mind barren because it kills intellectual innocence； that delight in what is unforeseen； and in the mere spectacle of the world； the mere drifting hither and thither that must e before all true thought and emotion。
a zealous irishman； especially if he lives much out of ireland； spends his time in a never？ending argument about oliver cromwell； the danes； the penal laws； the rebellion of 1798； the famine； the irish peasant； and ends by substituting a traditional casuistry for a country； and if he be a catholic； yet another casuistry that has professors； schoolmasters； letter？writing priests； and the authors of manuals to make the meshes fine； es between him and english literature； substituting arguments and hesitations for the excitement at the first reading of the great poets which should be a sort of violent imaginative puberty。 his hesitations and arguments may have been right； the catholic philosophy may be more profound than miltons morality； or shelleys vehement vision； but none the less do we lose life by losing that recklessness castiglione thought necessary even in good manners； and offend our lady truth； who would never； had she desired an anxious courtship； have digged a well to be her parlour。
i admired though we were always quarrelling on some matter； j。f。 taylor； the orator； who died just before the first controversy over these plays。 it often seemed to me that when he spoke ireland herself had spoken； one got that sense of surprise that es when a man has said what is unforeseen because it is far from the mon thought； and yet obvious because when it has been spoken； the gate of the mind seems suddenly to roll back and reveal forgotten sights and let loose lost passions。 i have never heard him speak except in some irish literary or political society； but there at any rate； as in conversation； i found a man whose life was a ceaseless reverie over the religious and political history of ireland。 he saw himself pleading for his country before an invisible jury； perhaps of the great dead； against traitors at home and enemies abroad； and a sort of frenzy in his voice and the moral elevation of his thoughts gave him for the moment style and music。 one asked oneself again and again； why is not this man an artist； a man of genius； a creator of some kind？ the other day under the influence of memory； i read through his one book； a life of owen roe oneill； and found there no sentence detachable from its context because of wisdom or beauty。 everything was argued from a premise； and wisdom； and style； whether in life or letters e from the presence of what is self？evident； from that which requires but statement； from what blake called naked beauty displayed。 the sense of what was unforeseen and obvious； the rolling backward of the gates had gone with the living voice； with the nobility of will that made one understand what he saw and felt in what was now but argument and logic。 i found myself in the presence of a mind like some noisy and powerful machine； of thought that was no part of wisdom but the apologetic of a moment； a woven thing； no intricacy of leaf and twig； of words with no more of salt and of savour than those of a jesuit professor of literature； or of any other who does not know that there is no lasting writing which does not define the quality； or carry the substance of some pleasure。 how can one； if ones mind be full of abstractions and images created not for their own sake but for the sake of party； even if there were still the need； find words that delight the ear； make pictures to the minds eye； discover thoughts that tighten the muscles； or quiver and tingle in the flesh； and stand like st。 michael with the trumpet that calls the body to resurrection？
。。
Synge And The Ireland Of His TimeIV
young ireland had taught a study of our history with the glory of ireland for event； and this for lack； when less than taylor studied； of parison with that of other countries wrecked the historical instinct。 an old man with an academic appointment； who was a leader in the attack upon synge； sees in the 11th century romance of deirdre a re？telling of the first five act tragedy outside the classic languages； and this tragedy from his description of it was certainly written on the elizabethan model； while an allusion to a copper boat； a marvel of magic like cinderellas slipper； persuades him that the ancient irish had forestalled the modern dockyards in the making of metal ships。 the man who doubted； let us say； our fabulous ancient kings running up to adam； or found but mythology in some old tale； was as hated as if he had doubted the authority of scripture。 above all no man was so ignorant； that he had not by rote familiar arguments and statistics to drive away amid familiar applause； all those had they but found strange truth in the world or in their mind； whose knowledge has passed out of memory and bee an instinct of hand or eye。 there was no literature； for literature is a child of experience always； of knowledge never； and the nation itself； instead of being a dumb struggling thought seeking a mouth to utter it or hand to show it； a teeming delight that would re？create the world； had bee； at best； a subject of knowledge。
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Synge And The Ireland Of His TimeV
taylor always spoke with confidence though he was no determined man； being easily flattered or jostled from his way； and this； putting as it were his fiery heart into his mouth made him formidable。 and i have noticed that all those who speak the thoughts of many； speak confidently； while those who speak their own thoughts are hesitating and timid； as though they spoke out of a mind and body grown sensitive to the edge of bewilderment among many impressions。 they speak to us that we may give them certainty； by seeing what they have seen； and so it is； that enlargement of experience does not e from those oratorical thinkers； or from those decisive rhythms that move large numbers of men； but from writers that seem by contrast as feminine as the soul when it explores in blakes picture the recesses of the grave； c